


A Discussion of Loss

by Stormraven24



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Friendship, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormraven24/pseuds/Stormraven24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "what-if" story in which two Masters ruminate over the fates of their students. Ties in to my other fic "Metamorphosis" but can be read alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Discussion of Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Metamorphosis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000602) by [Stormraven24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormraven24/pseuds/Stormraven24). 



“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show, Master Jedi.” Mace said nothing in response; he’d long since given up the witty banter. He had no patience for it anymore. Instead he simply placed his lightsaber on the table next to Dooku’s and took the seat across from him.

The cantina was completely deserted save for the lone bartender droid. No other patrons meant these meetings were kept discreet and, provided neither man betrayed their unspoken agreement of secrecy, could not be used as additional fodder in the conflict between the Republic and the Confederacy. What many people forgot was that aside from being exceptional warriors on opposing sides, these two men had once been friends. 

“You visited her again, didn’t you, Master Windu.” 

It wasn’t a question. Neither was it a jab at his weakness. It was merely an observation. Mace nodded as he took the cup of tea Dooku offered, but did not drink. “It never gets easier seeing her like that.” 

“Master Billaba learned the hard way that the Dark Side is not for those who still yearn for the Light.” The Count cast his eyes down to his near-empty cup. “In these times, one cannot afford to be caught in between.” If Mace didn’t know any better he’d have sworn that there was almost a hint of a sigh in the other man’s voice as he refreshed his tea. 

“For once we’re in agreement, Count. But I still hold out hope that Depa can find her way back.” 

“From what you’ve told me, she is long gone. She has not even acknowledged your presence in your many visits. Forgive my bluntness, but perhaps it is time to put an end to the suffering.” 

Mace’s eyes hardened and his frown deepened. “So long as I have hope, she’ll stay alive. She’s strong, always has been.” 

A ghost of a smile quirked up one side of Dooku’s mouth. “I was not speaking of _her_ suffering, my old friend.” 

Mace straightened, schooling his expression into a blank canvas. He refused to go down that road with this man. He opted for another tactic. “I always wondered how a mind as cold as yours could have produced someone as hot-headed as Qui-Gon Jinn.” It had the desired effect: Dooku’s eyes darkened and his left cheek twitched. Both changes were so small and insignificant, but to Mace they practically screamed that he had hit a nerve. 

“Qui-Gon was always a rebellious student,” Dooku admitted. “But he used that rebelliousness to his advantage. It was, in fact, his ‘hot-headedness’ that brought you your precious Chosen One, was it not?” 

Mace frowned again. Like others on the Council, he didn’t know what to make of Skywalker anymore. And despite all the evidence and all of the young Knight’s gifts and skills and power, Mace still hesitated to name him the Chosen One of prophecy. He’d openly argued against instructing Anakin when he was brought to the Temple, a fact that Qui-Gon had never forgot to his dying day. 

“Tell me something, old friend,” Mace said abruptly. He didn’t want to think about Skywalker; every time he did he ended up with a migraine. But since he had opened the door already, there was a question he’d longed to ask for a long time. “When you found out that Qui-Gon had been killed, did you feel… _anything_? He was your Padawan, after all.” 

A spark lit in Dooku’s usually cold eyes at that. “You think I felt nothing at his death? As you said, he was once my Padawan.” The Count deliberately softened his voice; it was unbecoming to show such emotion. “Although briefly, I did feel an incredible sadness when he was run through by Darth Maul. When Lord Sidious showed me the holorecording from the hangar’s security feed, no doubt to either test or torment me, the grief was compounded. I had hoped that Qui-Gon would live for many more years, forever a thorn in the Council’s side.” Both men almost smiled at that; no doubt that’s exactly what would have happened had Qui-Gon survived. “But I had to conceal that grief for my own protection. Had Lord Sidious sensed that weakness he would have seen fit to exploit it further.” Dooku sipped his tea thoughtfully. “Whether you believe it or not, I am still human and subject to the same weaknesses as anyone.” 

Although his face betrayed nothing, Mace was stunned by the admission. In all the years he’d known him, he’d never known Dooku to confess to anything that could potentially be construed as a weakness. The revelation was almost humbling. “Then you understand how I feel about Depa’s condition.” 

“The only thing worse than losing your former student,” Dooku conceded in a low voice, “is having to be the one to sever that connection yourself. Putting your student out of her misery is painful enough; even worse is to be ordered to kill her.” 

“No doubt you’re speaking of your assassin and her end on Boz Pity.” 

Dooku seemed to lose himself in thought, again staring into his cup. He seemed to even forget that Windu was present. “It was…an unfortunate end. Ventress was…very precious to me.” 

“The loss of such a skilled assassin would be a blow to any military commander,” Mace said softly. 

“She was more than that.” Dooku suddenly recalled where he was, in whose presence he was. He straightened and made his gaze hard again. “But what’s done is done. For the greater good, as you Jedi would say.” 

Mace debated for a long while, refilling his cup almost absently. He would probably end up regretting his sudden surge of compassion for his enemy, but something pushed him to speak. “Despite my reservations in telling you this, I can’t let someone as esteemed as you wallow in self-pity,” the Korun said mildly. “But it might interest you to know that Asajj Ventress is still alive.” 

A flash of surprise went though Dooku’s eyes. “Is she now…” Mace gave him a moment to digest the news. “How have you come by such information, I wonder.” 

“We have our ways. But you should also know that the Council is keeping a close eye on her. So don’t try anything foolish, like trying to recruit her back to your fold or finish her off for good.” 

“I am…pleased she still lives. The Force was always strong with her. It would be a shame for the galaxy to lose someone of her talent.” Dooku had indeed been secretly devastated when Sidious had ordered him to eliminate Ventress. While there had been a minute inkling of genuine affection for the young Acolyte, he had been more concerned about the crumbling of his long-term plans for her: when she had fully matured into her powers, he would name her his apprentice in earnest, and together they would destroy Darth Sidious and bring the galaxy under their joint control. He’d gotten so far ahead of himself in his eagerness that he’d even had a new name chosen for her: Darth Vindicaa. It had seemed fitting. “Might I ask how you intend to ensure that she will not regain her strength and resume her vendetta against the Jedi? Asajj has never been one to remain idle when there are ‘blasphemous’ Jedi to answer for her Master’s death.” 

“We have an agent monitoring her. Should she try anything foolish, he’ll out her down.” 

“ _He?_ ” If Dooku’s interest had been piqued before, now he was most definitely curious. “Oh, do tell me it’s Obi-Wan Kenobi.” 

Now it was Mace’s turn to be shocked, even if he didn’t show it. “Why would you say that?” 

Dooku harrumphed, a sound that was at once good-natured and condescending. “Don’t tell me you Jedi are not only blind to the rising of the Dark Side, but also to the power of…physical attraction.” He smirked at Mace’s discomfort at the phrase. “They’ve long been obsessed with each other. Both for different reasons, of course. But as time went on, I noticed a shift in their strategies, Asajj began, for lack of a better word, _playing_ with Kenobi. Oh, she still desired his death, of course, but only after she’d had her fun with him. That was why she allowed him to escape from her so many times. 

“And Master Kenobi…well, the ardor with which he searched for her when Skywalker nearly killed her. Very telling of him indeed.” 

Mace shifted in his chair. He didn’t like the way the conversation was going. “I don’t have to remind you that Kenobi is a devout Jedi Master-“ 

“And I don’t need to remind you that he is also very much a man. You may have sent him to keep an eye on Asajj, but you might want to make sure his eyes stay on his mission rather than _other things._ ” 

Dooku continued smirking. Mace just wanted the conversation to end right there. “Well, I would love to continue discussing such an impossible and ludicrous theory, but the war isn’t going to win itself.” He stood, lightsaber in hand. 

“Agreed, Master Windu,” said Dooku, standing as well. “Rest assured I have more pressing matters to attend to than fretting over my ‘dead’ assassin and your Jedi’s obsession with her.” He extended a hand in an archaic gesture of goodwill and farewell. “Until we meet again, my old friend.” 

Mace grasped the offered hand and replied, “May it be a long time from now.” The Jedi turned to leave, but did an about face as if he’d forgotten something. “Remember, leave Ventress alone. She’s finally free from her pain and your influence. She doesn’t need you to intrude on her newfound peace.” 

“No doubt Master Kenobi would attempt to behead me if I even dreamed of such a thing.” Dooku paused for a moment. “Don’t linger on Master Billaba, Mace. Her fall from the Light was her own doing. The fault does not lie with you.” 

Mace blinked. “Was that your attempt to be comforting, Dooku?” 

The Sith Lord shrugged nonchalantly. “Take it how you will, but of course I will disavow such a thing should it leave this room.” 

One corner of Mace’s mouth twitched up in what might have been a smile. “Sometimes I think there might still be some good in you after all.” 

“Then you’d be an even greater fool than I’d imagine, Master Windu.” With that, Dooku donned his hood and strode out the door, a credit chip left on the table for the bartender. 

Mace allowed himself a brief moment to mull over Dooku’s words. Was he keeping Depa alive because of the slight hope that her mind might one day return, or because of his own attachment to the woman who was as close to a daughter as he would ever have? Would it be more of a kindness to leave her in a bacta tank, or to send her spirit to the Force with dignity? And what did he mean about Kenobi and Ventress? The man had to have eaten some bad sharptooth fish to even think of such a thing. 

Shaking the troubling thoughts from his head, Mace clipped his lightsaber to his belt and stepped outside. The short respite from the war and drawn battle lines was over. 

Mace Windu once more became the hardened Jedi all knew him as. After all, he had a war to win.


End file.
